Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, this story and its plot twists belong to me unless it was used from another, in which credit will be given due.

Rating: T

Warnings: Severe OCC (out of Character) from both manga and anime, for some characters. Other characters will remain the same (as much as I can make it)

Pairings: one sided Kiba,Ino,Sensei/Naruto (you'll understand, it's more of a family type pairing as opposed to a romantic relationship paring) (Edited: Sensei as of yet undecided)

Plot Synopsis: For as long as he could remember, he could see the one others could not, was beaten, starved, stomped on and left for dead; but this one simple alteration, one simple adjustment will change everything as it was told.


For as long as he could remember, he could see him. The white one that is. The one whose eyes haunted nightmares of mortal men, driving them insane, the one who made an unseen enemy out of everything living being in existence.

The Shinigami.

He had always been there beside him for as long as he could remember. The boy's harmless thoughts drifted as he remembered soft warmth caressing his cheeks ghostly; way back when he must have been but a babe in the world. The boy's happiness wavered; it was a scientifically known fact that new born children cannot, absolutely cannot live without the love and touch, especially that of a parent.

This is why the boy calls the Shinigami father, or mother; he was the closest thing to it… which is actually… quite ironic.


He had watched since the boy was born and cursed for eternity; after all, it was he who had done the cursing and now was paying the price. He was tortured, spiritually (though, not physically, as he now lacked a body) mentally, but above all… Emotionally.

He watched, forced to do so, unable to help the pain he was directly the cause of, that he was responsible…. What had he done…?


5 goddamned years he had been in this infernal place, pinned in a small tiny cage with hardly any room to breath, much less move. It was maddening and insulting to one such as he, who carried and boasted of great and ugly deeds.

But he too was forced to watch by that which kept him bound here; Forced to see, hear, taste, smell and feel everything the boy went though, because it was he too who had caused the curse upon the child.

Watching for as long as he had, only solidified the belief that the boy and his race should perish…. Perhaps… maybe not the boy… but defiantly his race, those hairless cannibal apes should all die, it wasn't like the rest of the world would miss them.


It couldn't understand what was going through their heads. For hundreds… nay... thousands of years he had observed and watched the same one he was tailing to this day. It was unnatural, or maybe it wasn't, but It could not understand.

He had come here, ordered by the higher ups and asked by a mortal and so he had come and done what he was asked. But It could still not understand. It and It's clan, race, does not feel, they cannot care, they merely do their job and leave, be done with it.

But It could not leave. The boy as he was now (though he had been a babe when It had first seen him) was such an enigma to It. What was it about the boy that caught the higher ups so badly that they would continue to recycle his soul without letting it reach heaven, or even hell (though It didn't think the boy's soul would ever end up there… it simply wouldn't be fair)

To recycle a soul was extremely dangerous; it caused insanity… point and case, the Snake Sannin…. But to do it to a soul who has never been cleansed, never been to heaven, never rested…. Such Iron resilience... in this soul… the likes in which It has never seen.

Were the higher ups experimenting on a poor soul again? Were they trying to break such a fine soul? A soul of sanction and suffering? It was not supposed to care, but those eyes…. The weariness in them drew It to the boy, so It did not leave, It stayed, knowledgeable of the fact that only the Boy could see It, which meant, that only It could see behind the masks…

Unless the Boy let others in, that was.


"Kurotanbo…. Why do you always have a knife in your mouth?" It was an innocent question; but to the shinigami who was standing in the middle of the boy's cramped kitchen, his face betraying no emotion as he gently tapped one finger against his chin, it was an unexpected one.

"Um… I don't have a sheath." His voice was raw, blackened, dark and scratchy, but the boy didn't seem to be afraid of him, never had been, in fact.

"Huh?" The boy blinked. The shinimagi scratched an ear with the same expressionless face.

"It's true, I don't."

"hmnmmmm? Can I hold it?" the Shinigami actually looked alarmed for a moment.

"huh? N-"

Too late, it had already been grabbed and tugged viciously from his mouth, falling into the hands of the 5 year old. The Shinigami's eye twitched. The weapon of a god in the hands of a mortal was very bad indeed, so bad in fact… that anyone touching it would end up in a berserker and frenzied state, absorbed by the power and become mad. Insanity was a common theme amongst immortal and mortal crossings, very common.

True to his musings, the boy's back went ridged and tensed. The Shinigami's body tensed and went into alert mode, ready to phase through the furniture if need be to get to the boy before something terrible happened.

He waited… and waited…. And waited… and waited some more.

"Shinigami Kurotanbo…." Came a bare whisper of a voice that made the Shinigami's skin crawl. A voice like that shouldn't come from a 5 year old boy… it was filled with a more potent form of killer intent… Bloodlust. Kurotanbo stiffened and stopped moving completely, but nothing happened. No insanity, no mad "let's-try-and-kill-a-shinigami!", just bloodlust.

Kurotanbo frowned, if this continued, Ninja's would be alerted, he had to get the dagger out from the boy's hands and quickly. But he needn't have worried (which later he will staunchly deny) for the boy placed the dagger on the table and let go… collapsing and falling to the floor.


No response. The Shinigami picked the boy up and deposited him on his bed before returning to his dagger.

Mere coincidence, nothing more… there were probably plenty of people with the same reactions to a shinigami's dagger, there was no need to teach him how to use it, or any other weapon or even start teaching the brat! He was merely here to observe, observe only…..

3 days later, Kurotanbo got two daggers to start the boy off, still trying to convince himself that no… he wasn't feeling anything like worry and/or pride or anything like that at all. Nope, not… at… all…

Puppy eyes should be made illegal, the death god thought.


Just the prologue, of yet another fanfiction of Naruto… who I adore… hrm… I really don't know how I will continue this (well I do, but that's beside the point) I have gotten most of the story drafted…. But I have yet to find an ending ….. hrmm… plots

Kuro – Black, Tanbo – Dawn and Dusk, morn and eve